


One Last Time

by rclarkie16



Series: Honorary Bella [2]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Gen, spoilers for pp3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:01:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rclarkie16/pseuds/rclarkie16
Summary: Join Grace and the rest of the Bellas as they travel around the world on the USO tour to win a chance to open up for DJ Khalid. Will they win the coveted spot? Or will an action packed adventure put our favorite group of girls down for the count? Sequel to Honorary Bella.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Pitch Perfect or any of it's characters besides my OC, Grace.

"Grace! Are you even paying attention to me?"

The daze from staring at the road for four long hours is disrupted by Emily Junk smacking me in the shoulder, repeatedly. The new group of Barden Bellas, which I joined my freshman year, are on our way to the Brooklyn Aquarium for a performance. I'm still not sure how we got the gig or why we're traveling all the way to NYC to sing and not get paid.

Emily had taken over as captain of the Bellas, naming me her co-captain. She does most of the work, while I yell at the girls when they don't pay attention, occasionally helping her with a set.

It's a great job.

"Grace!"

I take my eyes off the road to glance at my girlfriend, who's sitting in the passenger seat while the rest of the girls are chattering away behind us.

"Sorry, Em," I give her a soft smile and reach out to squeeze her hand. "I'm just really focused on getting there. What did you say?"

Emily giggles, replying, "I was asking if you were excited to see everyone this weekend?"

Oh, right. We invited the original Bellas to come and see us perform since most of them have relocated to New York and nearby areas. The rest of the group is flying in from their own respective cities.

Don't get me wrong, I'm super excited to see them,—Beca and Chloe especially—but the trip is a lot easier when you're on an hour and a half plane ride, not driving the Bella bus fourteen hours to get there.

"Of course!" I start to grin, but it changes halfway into a wide yawn. "I'm super stoked to see them. Beca promised to show me the studio and Chloe has a bunch of tourist stuff for us planned this weekend."

"Me too!" she claps her hands together, excitedly. "Do you want me to drive for a little?"

That elicits a loud laugh. "Thanks, but I'd like to get there alive," she smacks me in the shoulder in false offense. "Sydney offered to take over if I need it, but I'm hoping to make it a straight shot to NYC."

"Whatever you say!" the clumsy senior offers me a salute before slumping back in her seat. "I'm tired."

"Take a nap, you have a ten hour window," I tell her. "I'll wake you up before the next bathroom break."

"Thanks, Grace. I love you," she mumbles, sleepily.

"I love you too, Em," my only answer is a loud snore, causing me to laugh.

Glancing once more at my girlfriend of three years causes me to smile affectionately. It had been almost four years since I met the Bellas all that time ago and so much has changed. I'm in the second semester of my junior year at Barden, while Emily is a senior. I'm currently majoring in Communications with a minor in Radio Broadcast. I discovered a passion for radio when Beca had forced me to sign up to intern at the station she worked at freshman year.

Turning my full attention back to the road, I turn on the radio and let Sia's newest hit become the first song of many on this road trip.

* * *

 

"Do you think they'll show?" Emily rocks back and forth on her heels, nervously biting on her bottom lip.

We'd arrived at the Brooklyn Aquarium a couple of hours ago and after a quick tour to see all the marine life, quickly went through one last run-through of our performance and are now searching the crowd for the original Bellas.

Letting out a quick laugh and quickly covering it when she shoots me a glare, I answer, "They're coming, Em. You created a Facebook event that everyone RSVP'd to, confirmed it in the group chat, and I just talked to Chloe this morning, who promised me she would be here, which means everyone will be here."

"You're right," the girl sighs, running her hands over the golden sparkly bomber jackets that each of the group was donning, with a pair of black shorts and white converse.

I brush a hand through braided ponytail that one of the girls—Jasmine—had done and smirk. "I'm always right, babe."

Emily rolls her eyes. "Last time you said that—oh look!" something over my shoulder catches her attention. "There they are! Let's go girls," she calls to the rest of the group as she turns me around and starts pulling me through the crowd.

I have to assume she spotted Beca or somebody, because I can't see anything through this sea of people and she has giraffe legs.

"Hey, Bellas," Emily greets when we get to the break in the crowd, finally giving way to the group of girls that I haven't seen altogether since Cynthia Rose got married the summer after they graduated.

Everyone was here, even Aubrey, strangely dressed in the flight attendant uniforms that Beca had shown me pictures of. But, why were the girls wearing their old performance uniforms if all they were doing was watching?

"Grace!" Chloe broke formation to give me a tight hug, kissing the top of my head repeatedly. "I missed you!"

Successfully, I manage to separate the two of us. "You just saw me for winter break a month ago!"

"I know. It's so hard being a parent."

"Okay, okay," Beca moves forward, slinging one arm around my shoulder. "I still think it's too soon."

Chloe slaps the brunette on the shoulder playfully. "You were just saying how boring it was in the city without her, Becs," she ignores the blush that forms on Beca's face. "So, what do you want us to sing? A little, Who Run the World? Some Bullet Proof? I didn't know what the crowd would be," reaching into her bag, she pulls out a blue solo cup, "so I brought this just incase."

The cup is immediately slapped out of her hands by the former brunette co-captain.

But, wait.

Why do they think they're performing?

One look at Emily's nervous and guilty face clues me into the fact that maybe I didn't see exactly what she told the others to get them all to come tonight.

"You didn't," I murmur from my position next to her.

"Our voices are warm," the former Barden Bellas sing a collected, "ah!"

If possible, the awkward look on Emily's face worsens. "Oh, god."

 _Oh yeah, she definitely did what I think she did,_ I think, burying my face in my hands.

"We didn't invite you here to perform," thankfully, Jasmine, another junior, takes over. "We invited you to watch," her statement is echoed faintly by Emily, who is nodding nervously and breathing erratically.

"Aca-scuse me?" Aubrey interrupts, most likely voicing all of the other girls thoughts.

"I just thought you guys were so busy with your awesome jobs and amazing lives," Emily continues to dig herself deeper.

There's a weird pause that tells me that maybe their lives aren't as awesome and amazing as my girlfriend thinks they are. It only lasts a couple moments before they're all nodding and agreeing with her statement.

I'll have to figure that out later.

"Okay…" I take a small step between both groups before Fat Amy, who looks ready to strangle Emily, can act. "We have to go perform now, but we'll see you afterwards, right?"

Beca gives me an affirmative, so I turn to the new Bellas and wolf-whistle to get their attention. "Alright, ladies. Get your asses to the stage and let's do this!"

The groups files back through the crowd the way we came. I give the older girls a wave before following behind Emily, but not fast enough to hear Amy ask, "Is it me, or does she sound like Aubrey?"

* * *

 

Our rendition of Daya's 'Sit Still, Look Pretty' goes off without a hitch. The performance is as good as I could've hoped for, but I can't help but notice that Chloe, Beca and the rest don't seem that excited about it. It only furthers the thought that something is definitely up.

After we finish, the girls disperse to mingle a bit before we head back to the hotel across the street where they will be staying while Em and I couch surf with Beca, Chloe and Amy.

I'm talking to one of the workers at the aquarium when Beca taps me on the shoulder.

"Hey, dude," she gestures to the group behind her. "We're going to go and get drinks at the bar Lilly works at. I'll text you the address and you can meet us after this is done?"

"Yeah," I nod, looking around for Emily. "I just have to make sure the group makes it back to their rooms alive."

She frowns playfully, "Wow, you really are starting to sound like Aubrey."

"Do not!"

"Okay, tiger," the music producer points at me, "whatever you say. I'll see you later."

Watching as my former foster parent sneaks up behind Chloe and scares her, I can't help but smile and be thankful that the redhead had hit me with her car. Even though I've aged out of the system in July when I turned 19 and they aren't legally responsible for me anymore, both women haven't relinquished their roles.

"Grace!" Emily appears behind me, along with the rest of the group. "The girls are ready to head out, so we can grab our stuff and meet the OG Bellas."

I nod, leading the sparkly bunch of girls through the front doors to the aquarium and across the street to our hotel. After making sure everyone is accounted for, I leave the group with some strict—rules—suggestions.

"One, please don't set anything or anyone on fire."

I can thank CR for that one.

"Two, no strippers, last years ICCA championships should be a clear reminder of why."

That one's better left unexplained. I don't think I'll ever be ready re-live it.

"And lastly, do not, under any circumstances use a ouija board. I'm very serious. We do not mess with spirits."

My girlfriend giggles, causing me to shoot her a glare, "I'm serious."

"Alright, General, I think they get it," she reaches out to take my hand, silently telling me that things were going to be okay for one night.

"Fine," I sigh, making eye contact with the curly haired brunette lounging on one of the beds. "Jasmine, you're in charge. Please don't make me regret it."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Jasmine salutes with a wink. "Or, should I say co-captain."

"Ugh," I groan. "We'll see you guys tomorrow."

There's a chorus of goodnights as Emily and I depart with our bags, the uneasy feeling in my stomach increasing they further we get away from them. We call an uber and as we're waiting Emily squeezes my hand.

"They're going to be fine, Grace," she promises. "I think you've trained them well-enough."

Nodding my head in agreement, "I know, but they might look all well-put together, yet they're just as dysfunctional as the original group," my eyebrows knit together in thought. "Maybe Beca's right, I am starting to sound a lot like Aubrey."

Emily laughs so hard she doubles over. "I don't think Aubrey would have allowed a drunk slip n slide contest or agreed to skinny dip in every hotel pool on the block when we were here last."

"You're right," I sigh, spotting the car we were supposed to be looking for, pulling up to the curb. "I just feel like since you're so nice, I have to yell to even it out."

"They love you," the girl reminds me, grinning as I hold the door open. "Just like I do, and Chloe, and Beca and the rest of the girls."

"Speaking of," I say, as the car starts moving again. "Why did you make it seem like the OG Bellas were performing and not tell me about it?"

My question causes her to slide down in her seat, the leather making a comical 'squeak' as she does. "I know! I feel so bad, but I didn't think that they would come if they didn't think they were singing!"

"Well, it's already done, but you should know those girls will use any excuse to get together." I remind her, "One time, Stacie flew in from Stanford just to borrow a tampon."

We both laugh at the memory, but Emily quickly frowns again, pulling on her hair. "I just feel really bad and I'm really sorry."

"Em," she looks up to meet my eyes. "Tell them, they'll understand."

The older girl nods and quirks an eyebrow. "Since when are you the smart one?"

Leaning up to kiss her, I whisper, "I've always been the smart one."

Emily tilts her head with a rare predatory look on her face. "We'll see about that," she pushes me against the window, gripping my hips for support in the start of an unexpected make-out session.

* * *

 

After apologizing profusely to our flustered uber driver and compensating with a large tip, we head into the bar Beca had told me there were at, which conveniently is where I think Lilly works.

"You guys!" Emily jogs ahead of me when she spots the group sitting around the bar, forcing me to quicken my pace to keep up with her. "I'm so sorry! I realized that I should not have used the word reunion. I should've said that it was an excuse to see each other. I didn't think that out, I'm sorry."

"…what she said," I pant out, resting my elbow against the counter next to Chloe.

"No, no," said redhead responds looking around at the group. "You guys were so great, and this was a really nice chance for us to get together, right ladies?"

There's a chorus of really weak agreement, allowing me to see that they were trying and failing to make it seem okay.

"I was supposed to go to my brother's wedding," Flo informs us. "But, this is nice, too."

I wonder if anyone else finds it odd that Flo would skip her brother's wedding to perform with the Bellas.

"Bellas," Chloe raises her beer. "A toast," the rest of the girls raise their glasses while she continues, "to the most amazing group of women I have ever known." I manage to find an empty glass to raise.

The group cheers.

"I would do anything to sing with you guys again," Chloe looks like she's holding back a waterfall of tears. "Anything! Really, I could just crap myself!"

"Okay, Chloe," I pat her on the shoulder, taking the beer from her as the rest of the girls clink their glasses together nervously. "Maybe someone should cut you off."

"Wait, wait!" Aubrey puts down her drink, "I'm having a crazy idea! You know how my dad's in the army and basically killed Osama Bin-Laden, right?"

"Some new information in that sentence, but okay." Beca points out.

Definitely never hearing that before, I raise my hand. "Can we come back to that later?"

Aubrey continues without acknowledging either of us, "But what I mean is, he's kinda a big deal in the army and every year the USO puts on a performance to entertain and support the troops and this year DJ Khalid is hosting."

Holy shit! DJ Khalid?

"He has like a gazillion hit songs," Aubrey adds, "and he's super famous, I saw him in a tax commercial once." The fact that each of them are impressed with DJ Khalid starring in a tax commercial baffles me. "What if I can get us an invite?"

"…to sing?" Chloe asks, making me slap my forehead.

"No," Aubrey responds sarcastically. "To run military dark ops!"

Lilly, who's cleaning a glass, gets super excited and this reminds me of how much I don't want to know about what she does in her free time.

"No, of course to sing!"

"Well, is there a competition?" It's not a surprise that that's Chloe's next question. "There should always be a competition."

"Um, no," Aubrey hesitates, but I'm ecstatic at the idea of not competing for something. "But, let's sing together again, and maybe I'll see my dad. Or, maybe I won't because he has something really important to do," her crazy smile increases tenfold. "Or, maybe I'll be the most important thing in his life this time…maybe."

I honestly feel bad for the blonde. I may have known my biological father, but I'd rather that than never seeing him.

There's a moment where everybody looks at each other, silently.

"Who's with me?"

Unsurprisingly, Chloe is the first to raise her beer and agree.

"Yeah," Beca is next, confusing me because usually she's very busy because of her job. "I've suddenly got a lot of free time, so yeah!"

"Well, I just got kicked out of flight school for killing three hundred fake people," CR explains with Amy adding that she 'hates fake people'. "I hate a fake bitch!" she slams her hands down on the bar, followed by the blonde Australian.

"Can you fly when your eight months pregnant?" Stacie wonders, and I watch as Aubrey's face falls slightly.

For reasons I'm unsure of, Stacie and Aubrey had broken off whatever was going on between them during my freshman year. I'm still not sure why, but I know that Chloe spent hours on the phone with the blonde when it happened, comforting and consoling her.

I'm also pretty sure that Stacie was upset about it because the next time I saw her she didn't look as happy and didn't make any sexual references to the 'Hunter'.

But, my train of though is interrupted when Stacie stands with a hand on her stomach.

Her very pregnant stomach.

"Holy shit, Stacie's pregnant!" I blurt out, quickly covering my mouth like I could take it back. Everyone's staring at me, "I mean…congrats?"

"You guys didn't notice?" the pregnant woman asks with a wide smile, hugging Flo and Fat Amy.

"Do you know who the father is?" Chloe questions while the rest give their own congratulations.

Stacie shrugs a shoulder, "Eh."

If that isn't a typical Stacie move, then I don't know what is. At least Aubrey looks a little happier now that there isn't a man in the picture.

"Well, Stacie's out," Beca moves forward with the conversation. "So, I guess Emily, you're in!"

The way she says it makes me think that she forgot about the legacy. "Um, sure!" my girlfriend seems to catch on. "Was I not always in?"

Every Bella's eyes widen while they try to reassure the girl that she was always 'in'.

"Uh," I raise my hand in the air. "Does this mean I don't have to participate, because I would rather cheer you on for old times sake."

Chloe laughs like I'm saying the funniest thing in the world. "Of course you have to participate, Grace! I've always wanted to perform with you!"

The rest of them raise their glasses with another cheer and Emily wraps an arm around my shoulders.

And that, was how I got roped into the craziest trip of my life.


	2. Chapter 2

“So…you got fired?”

After Aubrey had made a call to her father and he got the Bellas a spot on the USO Tour, Emily and I had gone with Beca, Chloe, and Amy back to their apartment. Since everyone already had a passport because of the World’s a couple of years ago, the only thing we needed to do was get permission from Barden for the three week trip.

I called first thing this morning and got the a-okay from the Dean. He may or may not have owed Emily and I for having the Bellas perform at his wedding last year and I used that to get him to sign off.

As long as we kept up with our course load, which wouldn’t be a problem for me because all my classes were easy, and if I kept up with studying, I’d be able to keep up with no issues.

My girlfriend, on the other hand, was in the last semester of her senior year, and needed high grades to get into grad school next year. She had an important abnormal psych exam the week after we got back that she was extremely nervous about.

I know this means that there will be a lot of late nights up together this trip but it’ll be worth it.

“I didn’t get fired! I quit!” across the table, Beca throws her hand in the air, exasperatingly. “Why does everyone keep thinking that?”

Fat Amy told me earlier before she left for another of her ‘Fat Amy Winehouse’ shows, but I’m not about to tell the older girl that.

Chloe gives me a look from Beca’s side that clearly says that she doesn’t buy it, and even so, I try to placate the small brunette. “Oh, right, you quit, sorry,” the effort is weak and she obviously knows it.

To my left, Emily is attempting to stifle a giggle and stops completely when Beca shoots her a glare.

“Anyway,” Chloe continues to prevent her girlfriend from leaping across the table and strangling mine. “I was thinking we could visit Times Square and maybe go to the top of the Empire State Building or something.”

Beca groans. “Chlo, we’ve all been to both places before. Why can’t we just go for pizza or something and hang out?”

“Because we always hang out and eat pizza!” Chloe whines, giving the other woman a pleading look. “Please?”

“Can we go to the Disney Store?” Emily asks excitedly, reaching out and shaking my shoulder.

This gets Chloe amped up too, because one of the things the two have in common in their love of all things Disney. I don’t really care what we do, as long as it doesn’t require visiting Amy’s show again. Once was enough to scar me for life.

Shaking her head rapidly, Beca let’s out several weak ‘no’s’ that fail to deter the others.

She looks to me for support, but I just shrug and glance at Emily and back to Beca. I’m not going to deny my girlfriend a trip to the Disney Store.

“Ugh,” the music producer groans once more, realizing she was not going to win this one and gives into Chloe’s bright blue eyes. “Fine.”

Both girls jump out of their chairs, squealing. They hug once, still bouncing up and down before Chloe exclaims, “we need to get ready!” kisses Beca quickly and drags Emily over to the other side of the room, still talking animatedly.

I smile cheekily as Beta turns back around to face me, face flushed from the PDA.

“Not a word!” she points at me, threateningly.

Holding my hands up, I reply, “I wasn’t going to say anything,” before erupting into a fit of giggles.

Beca takes one look at our two occupied girlfriends, before lunging across the table and wrapping her arm around my neck in a headlock. I use both hands to try and pry her arm away to no avail, instead choosing to go limp and letting her hold up my body weight.

Since both of us a fairly the same size, she’s only able to hold me up for a couple moments before we both collapse to the floor.

“This isn’t over, kid,” she pants, grinning widely.

Rolling over and positioning myself so that I’m sitting on top of her stomach, I laugh. “Oh, it definitely is. I win.”

Something soft hits me in the face, blocking my eyesight. “C’mon you two,” Chloe says with a giggle. “Stop killing each other and let’s go.”

I pull off what turns out to be my jacket, get off Beca and help her up once she stops grumbling about, ‘this not being over’.

The moment I slip my jacket on and put on some shoes, Emily is pulling me out the door behind Beca and Chloe, rambling on about how much fun this was going to be. I smile lovingly at the older girl, squeezing her hand softly and preparing myself for a lot of walking.  
______________________________________________________________________

The day actually went a lot better than I expected it to. Although she’d say different, even Beca had a good time. As promised, the Disney store was one of our first shops, and Emily came out with a Pua plush, the pig from Moana, which I had to admit was extremely adorable.

“Let’s take a picture together!” Emily exclaims, putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close. She positions the stuffed animal between us and uses her other arm to hold her phone up in the air. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese,” is said in a monotone because Beca is smirking from her position against the building. Instead of responding verbally, I reward my former foster parent with my favorite finger.

“Chloe!” Beca cries, gesturing in our direction. “Do you see what she’s doing? Look at her!”

I put my hand down just in time for Chloe to turn around and look as I smile innocently in their direction.

She smiles back brightly before giving Beca a strange look. “What are you talking about, Becs? She’s just being a great kid, like she always is.”

Beca’s mouth hangs open. “B-but she was…never mind,” she decides that it’s not worth it, causing me to grin victoriously.

We eat pizza for lunch and on our way back to the apartment pick up Fat Amy from her spot on a street corner, where she surprisingly made a decent amount of money.

Sometime during the walk back, I receive a text with a group photo of the new Bellas, allowing both Emily and I to see that they survived the night and are all still in one piece.

Back at the apartment, Beca is throwing a fit about the sleeping arrangements.

“No, no, no!” the brunette waves her arms. “You two are not sleeping together! Emily can have the couch and you can share with Amy.”

The Australian and I both immediately exchange desperate glances, neither of us liking that plan in the slightest. Emily is willing to do whatever Beca says, still admiring the older woman as much as she did her freshman year if not more.

“Beca,” I groan, taking a step closer to her. “Em and I sleep in the same bed all the time, please don’t make this weird.”

But Beca isn’t having it, and she wags a finger in my face. “Not under my roof, missy!”

“Well, technically you don’t have a job, so this is mine and Chloe’s apartment,” Fat Amy cringes so the glare she receives. “Sorry,” the blonde shrugs before returning to the subject. “But, uhhh, I’m pretty sure those two already cop a root at least once a week if you know what I mean,” she winks, suggestively.

Emily and I both share matching blushes, while Beca covers her ears, yelling, “Lalala! I didn’t just hear that.”

“Becs,” Chloe cuts in, appearing from behind the rack of clothes separating the room. “We’ve talked about this. Grace and Emily are adults, and it’s perfectly okay for them to make love.”

“Oh, MY GOD!” crying out at the same time as Beca, I take Emily’s hand and lead her away to where the couch is. “We’re gonna share the sofa bed, end of discussion,” I slide my hand down my face. “Let’s never talk about this ever again.”

“Agreed,” the short brunette replies from across the room, accompanied by Chloe and Amy’s laughter.

The night went on with most of the same; Beca freaking out about Emily and I sharing the couch every five minutes and Amy spouting out sexual innuendos at the drop of a hat.

Before leaving for Barden the next day, Chloe clutched me to her chest and cried, Beca gave me an awkward one-armed hug, while Fat Amy reminded them that we’d be seeing each other in a week and a half.

Surprisingly, the Barden Bellas and the hotel rooms were entirely intact when Emily and I returned with our bags. Someone’s hair may or may not have been died blue, but I’ll still count it as I win.

I drove the entire trip back to Atlanta, Georgia by myself, stopping many times because no one went to the bathroom at the same time these days.

It didn’t hurt that Emily tried to hold my hand the entire way.  
______________________________________________________________________

The days leading up to the USO tour went by really quick. Things continued like normal with class, Bella’s rehearsal and spending time with my girlfriend. There were frequent group texts from every member of the old Bellas, going over set choices and travel plans.

Beca had plenty of time to put together set lists because she got fired—I mean quit her job.

“Emily, do you have your passport?” I ask, while shoving my own into my carry-on bag.

“Right here!” she waves the aforementioned object in the air from across the room, her luggage already packed and ready to go.

We both still share the same room as her freshman year and my pre-freshman year,—as the other girls dubbed it—only instead of two twin beds, there’s a full. Beca has no idea, and after the events of that weekend, I have no intentions of filling her in.

Zipping up my overfilled bag, I continue, “How about your plane ticket? Phone charger? Socks?”

“Check, check, and check,” she mimes checking off a list. “I think you should be worried about yourself. Fifteen minutes ago you tried to put a lamp in your bag.”

“Don’t talk about it,” I bite out, still embarrassed about it. “We were up all night and I’m really tired.”

Emily shrugs innocently and drops her suitcase by the door. “You’re the one who said no sex during the trip,” it’s said as a joke, but she sounds slightly peeved.

Her statement causes me to choke on air. “Do you want to deal with the can of worms that will open if any of the others catch us?” Emily lets up her pointed stare in favor of a wince. “I didn’t think so.”

“How about your songbook?”

I regret it the moment I ask. It’s been months since the girl has even looked at the leather book that’s sitting untouched on the bureau a few feet away. Emily glances as it and shakes her head, sadly.

“No,” she speaks softly, playing with her fingers. “I don’t have anything to write and I haven’t for a while. I’ve been busy.”

“Em,” I pull her over to the bed, sitting down and taking her hand so she can’t twiddle her thumbs. “You love writing. Is there anything else going on? I’m sure you can make time.”

Emily sighs. “No, with grad school applications, finals, and graduation coming up after the trip there’s just no time.”

I want to say more, to tell her that her music brings her joy, but there’s a knock on the open door.

“Speaking of time, yours is running out if you want to make your flight,” a blonde says from her position leaning against the frame.

“Oh, you’re right!” Emily exclaims, jumping from the bed and racing over to the small cage on the bedside table. “Bye Meeko! You will take care of him, right Sarah?” she looks over her shoulder at the girl.

“Yes, Emily,” as Sarah gives her confirmation, I sneakily slip a certain brown book into the small compartment on the side of my bag. “I will take care of your hamster.”

Emily grins happily, taking her suitcase by the handle and leaving the room in a trail of puppies and rainbows.

Before leaving the room myself, I stop in front of Sarah. “Please don’t kill her hamster, but if you do, the pet store has a doppleganger on hold just in case.”

Sarah laughs, slapping me on the shoulder. “Thanks cap, always good to have a backup plan.”

“Also,” this sentence is accompanied by a more serious look. “I already told Jasmine, but do not burn the house down, please.”

“You got it!” she grabs one of my bags and trots out the door.

“Why did I agree to this?” I ask myself. “Not only is the Bella house going to be in shambles, but we’ll probably all die on this trip as well. The Bellas never do anything the safe way.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the Riff-Off!

We flew to meet the rest of the group at the JFK airport in New York, where we would then take a military plane to one of the US bases in Spain. The girls—minus Stacie, who was almost nine months pregnant—were extremely loud and rambunctious as always, and Amy even tried to join the mile high club with the co-pilot.

“Are you sure?” the blonde woman asks as the stewardess herds her out of the cockpit and away from the pilot’s trying to get us to our destination. “It would be a real quickie!”

Aubrey practically breaks the arm rests on her seat, her grip is so tight. “Amy, maybe you should get back to your seat. I’m sure we’re about to land soon.”

“Sure, he probably couldn’t handle all this anyway,” Fat Amy points out, slapping her stomach and plopping down beside Cynthia-Rose.

Shortly after we land on a large tarmac with a multitude of other very dangerous looking aircrafts. I grip the handle of my suitcase with one hand and hold Emily’s hand with my other. It’s extremely windy and I want to ground myself as much as possible.

We’re walking towards the main building when the cargo door of another plane opens and two annoyingly familiar people strut out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” my groan catches the attention of the others, who turn to look at our newcomers.

“Hola senoritas!” John calls, donning a pair of sunglasses and pushing a cart full of equipment, Gail following with her own luggage.

The two a cappella commentators have decided to create a ‘d-acca-mentary’ about the Bellas and have been stalking us for years now. They don’t focus so much on the new group, so I don’t have to deal with them, but the older girls still can’t seem to shake them. One time they even got into Beca, Chloe, and Amy’s apartment.

“Where’d you guys even come from?” Beca asks blankly, probably not even surprised at this point.

“A little town called ‘persistence’ sweet-cheeks!” Gail calls, trying to grab something around her neck as it flutters in the strong winds.

John holds up a similar laminated slip of paper around his neck. “Look at this ladies. All-access passes, we’re big enough for _all_ the rides. You can run but you cannot hide!” He steps closer, laughing.

“Is it wrong that I hope he gets run over by a plane?” I whisper to Jessica on my right, causing the other girl to giggle and shake her head. “I thought so.”

Gail tells the group that the “d-acca-mentary is happening!” and that everything on this trip is going to be filmed. We all just exchange confused and annoyed looks as the two wander off ahead of us, talking about setting up.

Flo says something that I don’t catch but causes everyone to turn their attention forwards, where two men in uniform are walking towards us. If I’m being completely honest, they are easy on the eyes and I’m not the only one to think that.

The weird thing is they look like they’re walking in slow motion. I glance down at my watch to check and shrug when the hand that counts seconds moves normally.

 _Maybe they’re just really slow_.

Chloe, who’s standing directly in front of me, straightens up and runs a hand through her hair quickly, while Beca shoots her a confused look and turns to glare at the newcomers.

“Welcome to Spain, Bellas!” The man with the sunglasses says, holding his hands behind his back. “A few important things to know before we begin…”

He’s interrupted as an aircraft takes off making it extremely windy and loud, some of our suitcases almost being blown away before Fat Amy grabs ahold of them. Emily and I exchange unsure glances when he keeps talking and mimes firing a gun and getting choked. The wind dies down and I lower the hand that was trying to keep my hair out of my face.

“…if you don’t want it to impale yourself!” We only catch the end of his sentence and my stomach clenches anxiously. “I hope you all heard each and every word, or else you might very well end up dead,” he smiles, which makes him slightly more attractive. “Ladies, I’m messing with you.”

Now that everyone is relieved there’s no threat of death, we all relax. It’s not the first time the group has been in a life-threatening situation—even if it was just a joke—and definitely not the last.

The man introduces himself as Chicago. Seriously, the guy is named after the city and now all I can think about is pizza. His partner’s name is Zeke, which is much more common and not a place. They welcome us to the tour and thank us for coming.

Fat Amy holds up an arm. “Question. Will we all be showering together?”

My hand comes up to slap myself in the forehead. “C’mon, Amy.”  
“What?” She asks, looking at me excitedly. “It’s a valid question.”

Chicago awkwardly ignores her and informs us that, “First up, is a sound check and then we’ll have you back at the hotel around 1430. Maybe hit the rain locker,” I think that means shower, “and have you back here for the big show at 1700.”

“1700? Is that like, later than the night?” Chloe inquires, making my hands twitch violently.

Beca seems to be having the same problem because she looks incredibly jealous at the way her girlfriend is looking at Chicago and this situation remind me eerily of Kommissar from DSM a couple years ago.

“Chloe, it’s five,” I tell her at the same time that he answers.

If that’s not bad enough, Amy is channeling her inner Stacie today because she tries once more to ‘flirt’ with the two soldiers.

“Question, question.” _Here we go again_ , I think to myself as Amy continues with what I’m sure will be something completely inappropriate, “So this is the first base. Will we be going to second base with you guys?” The Bellas as a whole look around uncomfortably. “And maybe a few days later we’ll go to the third base?”

Emily, in her cute yellow peacoat, scrunches up her nose, probably due to the image of Fat Amy’s question finally clicking in her mind. I give her hand a squeeze and try not to laugh at the expression on Chicago’s face, less Chloe yells at me.

“That’s a no from me, so,” Zeke answers professionally with a straight face. His lack of reaction is very impressive.

Chicago, on the other hand, blows out a breath and changes the subject again when Amy ponders out loud what comes after third base. “Why don’t we get you to your first venue?”

He leads us into one of the large buildings that’s called, “Hanger Three” and takes us on a quick tour, giving a detailed history that none of the girls—besides Chloe, for reasons unknown—are listening to.

As we get closer to where the stage is, I take notice of all the other people standing around with instruments. Chicago sees them too, because he starts giving us a brief rundown of each of the other bands on the tour.

Bands, as in instruments, which we do not use.

There’s Saddle Up, a country group that seems to me like the most friendliest of the three. Next is Young Sparrow and DJ Dragon Nutz, who’s outfits reflect their ridic— _interesting_ name. I mean the one guy is wearing a red jacket with mustard yellow pants and now I’m seriously craving a cheeseburger.

But both pale in comparison to the last group.

Evermoist.

Sexual band name aside, these girl’s look intimidating as hell…if I could be intimidated, that is. Evermoist gives off a very punk rock vibe with their edgy outfits, hairstyles, and guitars.

I’m not going to lie, I do get a little excited when I see DJ Khaled behind them sitting and talking with some of his people.

Too bad Chicago has to ruin it by announcing our presence to the other groups. The other bands come over from their previous positions to stand in front of us while Aubrey tries to be friendly.

“Hello,” she says, clasping her hands together. “We’re the Bellas, formally of Barden University and currently, of life.” Aubrey seems to be having a ‘Beca moment’ because she’s using her hands a hell of a lot.

The Saddle Up guys give us a friendly ‘hello’ and Young Sparrow explains DJ Dragon Nutz’s social anxiety to us. Lilly mumbles or sings something under her breath and unless my eyes are deceiving me, a tear falls down her cheek.

“Right on,” one of the Evermoist girls speaks. “I’m Calamity, this is Serenity, Veracity, and Charity.”

I’ll be five dollars those aren’t their real names.

“Hi.” Where the hell did Amy get that hat? It says, ‘Make America Eat Again’ and it’s not that shocking. “If I joined your group, I could be obesity.”

No one laughs at her joke.

“If you’re wondering, our presence here has nothing to do with the nationality televised ‘Salute to the Troops’ special where DJ Khaled is going to pick one group to open for him at the end of this tour.” Serenity explains…or doesn’t in one large breath.

“That was a lot of exposition,” Flo points out while I wonder how she didn’t pass out.

“So, there is a competition,” Chloe says calmly, but I bet there’s that crazy look in her eyes. “I knew it!”

“And so there is,” Aubrey echoes.

“We’re all gonna die,” I murmur to Emily while John yells, “Idiots!” at us.

Gail laughs, “What, did you think we cared about just watching you guys?” Well, I did since they stalk us for a living. “It’s a competition, hello!”

There goes that running them over with a plane idea again, only this time it’s a very large tank.

“You guys just sing covers of other people’s songs, right? Like a cover band.”

Thank you, Serenity, for opening up this can of worms.

The Bella’s laugh like what she asked was cute even though it’s basically true besides the couple of song we’ve done that Emily has written. Only, I don’t mention that because of the tense conversation we had before leaving the Bella house.

Chloe has other ideas, because she says, “No, no, no,” she throws a thumb behind her to point at my girlfriend. “Actually, Emily writes original songs for the Bellas.”

Cue another face palm.

“I mean I don’t really do it anymore,” Emily breaks the news, causing the others to turn and stare. “I mean I did that one and…”

Probably not the best place to tell them.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Aubrey cuts her off, giving her a sharp look. “Are you with us or against us?”

Emily deflates a little, so I slip my hand into hers and smile reassuringly at her. “Don’t worry, Em. You know what competition does to her, she didn’t mean anything by it,” she perks back up slightly.

“And it was one of your dad’s who gave you this spot on the tour, right?” Again, its Serenity with the jab and I’m not able to hold my tongue this time.

“You know what I’m going to give you?” I ask heatedly, trying to push myself past Chloe and holding a fist in the air. “This! In your face!”

Someone grips the back of my jacket collar, effectively holding me in place and preventing me from beating the blonde out of Serenity’s hair. The girl in question just quirks an eyebrow in amusement.

“Cool it, kid,” Beca whispers into my ear. “We don’t need to be kicked off the tour for violence before we even start.”

I cross my arms, huffing out an affirmative and giving Serenity one last look. “Sorry, Beca.”

Beca pushes against my shoulder affectionately before focusing back on the conversation going on around us.

“Ummm,” Aubrey grasps for straws as the other band exchange smirks.

“Guys, stop,” I can’t help but be proud of Emily for speaking up, something she wouldn’t have done in her freshman year. “They just don't like sharing the spotlight, so they’re trying to intimidate us. Let’s just take the high road and do what we do.”

“You thinkin’ what I thinkin’?” CR asks Emily, who has no idea what she’s thinking but I’m afraid that I do.

Please, please let it not be a riff-off.

“A riff-off!” Amy announces which gets the Bella’s super excited.

I’m not sure why. I’m almost positive we’ve lost every single riff-off since the beginning of time.

“That’s…not what I was thinking,” Emily responds, furrowing her eyebrows. I pat her back sympathetically.

“Yes! A riff-off! Yes!” Gail shouts, practically dropping the boom mic in her arms due to her excitement.

_Why me?_

Then Calamity has to ask what a riff-off is and Chloe gives her the short—but still seriously long—explanation. Evermoist does not seem impressed in the slightest and I prepare myself for the obvious riff-off that’s about to go down. Chloe chooses the party songs category.

She gives Lilly the signal to lay down some beats and the girl obliges while also miming what I think are flirtatious moves at DJ Dragon Nutz, who is very receptive to them.

“ _I’m coming up so you'd better get this party started_ ,”

We start off strong, with Pink’s _Get the Party Started_. It’s going very well and I’m impressed because the Bellas haven't sung together for a while and never with me in front of people. Aubrey comes in next with _Shut Up and Dance_ and Beca follows with some R. Kelly. Fat Amy does her own version of _Let Me Ride_ that Emily and I back her up on.

_“Swing down sweet chariot stop and let me ride,”_

_Hell yeah!_

_“Swing down sweet chariot stop and let me ride,”_

_Let me ridddddddeeee!_

It wouldn’t be Amy if she didn’t add some flare to the end by screaming the last line and throwing up the middle finger at the punk rock band in front of us. Everyone instinctually reaches to cover their ears as the Australian tapers off.

“So, you guys saw what we did there, right?” Chloe asks, leaning around the celebrating blonde.

“…so, it’s singing.” Serenity confirms, sarcastically.

No, that’s not the answer that the redhead was looking for because she explains it further and Emily counts the number of things she lists on her fingers, which is kinda adorable, but it’s really not the time, Grace!

Calamity gives a very fake congratulations that doesn’t sit well with Aubrey. Not to mention, the other groups snickers that cause her eye to twitch slightly.

“Okay, okay. Round two,” she announces. “Let’s keep it simple this time. How about…artist’s you didn’t know were Jewish.”

Her idea backfires when Evermoist goes first with _Fly Away_ by Lenny Kravitz, which I can’t lie, is pretty impressive. Some of the Bellas jam while others like Fat Amy use the lyrics to tell the group to ‘get away’. Things get out of hand when Saddle Up goes next with _One More Night_ and the other bands start banging drum sticks on things.

Young Sparrow and DJ Dragon Nutz chime in with _Call Me_ and Chloe’s eyes nearly pop out of her head when Evermoist and Saddle Up join in. Apparently she didn’t explain that it was everyone for themselves in her CliffNotes version of the riff-off handbook.

The Bellas recover with _Love Me Harder_ , Chloe leading the group.

And if this shitstorm couldn’t get any worse, a group of soldiers cut in with Beyonce’s _If I Were a Boy_. I can’t help but clap, because one, they sound freaking terrific and two, its Queen B! Although she isn’t Jewish, as Aubrey informs them.

One of the crew members tells the bands that they still need a vocal’s check, so the three bands get up on the stage and mess around with some equipment.

“Hey! We’re not done yet!” Aubrey calls, and I want to hit her, because we should just quit while we’re ahead.

“Oh, baby,” Calamity speaks into the microphone. “We’re just getting started.”

Chloe announces the next category as “zombie apocalypse” and not two-seconds later, Calamity is singing the opening lyrics to _Zombie_ by The Cranberries. I guess Chloe thought this new category would be more challenging, but she is very wrong.

The Bellas stand in front of the stage while Charity starts drumming and the song picks up.

“They can’t use the drums!” Chloe exclaims, looking around at us as if someone is committing a murder.

If that’s not bad enough, the other bands start singing together and both Chloe and Aubrey look as if their heads are about to explode because they can’t understand the concept. Saddle Up chooses _Stonger_ and Young Sparrow and DJ Dragon Nutz use _Grenade_.

No one knows what to do and I hide my head in Emily’s shoulder, because this is just sad and embarrassing.

_“But I’m only human,”_

And there’s Beca, saving the day and our dignity with her musical genius. Lifting my head from Em’s shoulder, I join in with the rest of the group singing back up for our fearless leader. The other groups actually stop for a second before picking up some guitars and plugging them into amps.

Beca may be great, but she’s not match for microphones and amplifiers.

We watch in embarrassment as the bands start playing again, and we can do nothing to stop it.

“They just disqualified themselves by using musical instruments,” Aubrey says with a tight smile. “We just won. We won, guys!”

No one is celebrating our obvious loss and Beca seems to read my mind, because she waves an arm and says that the Bella’s should go. I have no complaints and follow right along behind her, the bands still playing as we exit.

As we make our escape, the other girls utter unenthusiastic cheers that we won, even though we lost terribly. John and Gail shove cameras in our faces as we walk by and I grip Emily’s hand tightly.

Of course we just lost another riff-off. We’ve never even won one and we couldn’t even beat people who have never been in one before.

_What did we get ourselves into?_


	4. Chapter 4

“So, just to be clear,” I interrupt the record-breaking fifteen minute silence that fell over the Bellas after that embarrassing loss. “You guys are aware that we did lose back there, correct?”

The group had filed into a van that would take us back to the hotel so we could rest up before our big performance tonight. Emily looked like she was going to explode with word vomit, so I stepped in to save her from herself, or whatever encouragement she might have for the girls that they won’t be receptive to.

“Of course we’re aware, Grace!” Chloe admonishes from her position across the isle, crazy eyes making their appearance. “The other groups just cheated by using instruments and I don’t think that really counts as a win.” Aubrey nods along with her best friends statement.

CR coughs into her hand, “I don’t know where you two were, but that shit was embarrassing.”

Flo nods. “I’ve seen near death prisoners perform to save their lives better than that,” Aubrey glares at her and the Guatemalan quickly adds, “but it was still not…terrible.”

“Okay, okay,” Beca speaks up to prevent this conversation from going any further downhill. “That riff-off may not have been ideal, but the number we have organized for the show tonight is going to knock the socks off of those other bands.”

Chloe seems placated by this, as well as the rest of the girls. Our first performance number is really awesome and I have to give props to Chloe for picking the song and Beca for doing the arrangements. Not to mention, our costumes are super cool and a salute to the troops.

“We’re here, ladies!” Chicago voice cuts through Jessica and Ashley’s explanation of the bakery they are planning to open this summer, but both girls aren’t fazed, due to it happening to them all the time.

We all exit the van and pull our luggage through a beautiful courtyard to get to the hotel, but not before stopping to pet an extremely cute dog on the way.

Amy tries teaching Emily all the words that she knows in Italian, which to nobodies surprise, are all food related. It doesn’t help that we’re in Spain to which my girlfriend corrects the older woman.

Zeke loads our luggage onto a cart with the help of a bellhop and Chicago retrieves the room keys from the front desk.

Over at the travel brochures, Aubrey starts a conversation with Emily as Lilly and I browse through the colorful pamphlets.

“So, Emily, is it true what you said back there? Are you really not writing anymore?”

I swear to god Aubrey is seriously about to be at the top of my hit list.

Literally.

After that Serenity girl, of course.

Still, I’m curious to hear Emily’s response after our previous argument about it.

Emily looks up from her brochure with her wide brown eyes. “Well, I mean, not right now, anyway,” as she continues, Lilly starts ripping up her paper, looking intensely focused on her task. “I’ve got 21 credits that I’m taking this semester, the GRE is coming up, it’s right around the corner,” she takes a deep breath. “And, I’ve got a hamster now.”

I’m not really sure why she’s convinced a hamster is a large commitment, but I don’t put any further thought into when I look at Lilly once more.

The silent girl has some sort of man’s face stuck to her nose and instead of blatantly laughing, I play it off as a coughing fit.

“Aw, that’s amazing,” Aubrey smiles, not even a flicker of surprise at Lilly’s actions before turning back to Emily. “Well, don’t give up. My dad always says, ‘age wrinkles the body, but quitting wrinkles the soul’,”

As Aubrey spews out more advice from General Posen, the door opens behind her and Chloe walks through, joining Chicago at the reception desk. My attention immediately shifts to the pair and I’m not the only one. Beca’s stepping out of the bathroom and shooting daggers at the man.

Jealously is not a good color on her, and definitely doesn’t mesh well with her cool-girl attitude.

It looks like typical Chloe-friendliness to me. They aren’t standing as close as she tends to with her aversion to personal space, but it’s apparently close enough for her girlfriend.

The girl could flirt with a plant and Beca would chop it in half.

“You okay, Beca?” I ask, coming to a stop next to her.

Beca jumps slightly, but doesn’t remove her gaze from the scene in front of us. “I’m fine,” she says through clenched teeth. “Just wondering why it’s taking so long to get some damn room keys.”

“Maybe you should see what’s taking so ‘damn’ long,” I tease, instinctually ducking to avoid the arm she swings at me. “Hey! It was just a suggestion.”

“What is that?” she asks, suddenly, pointing dramatically at the two across the room. “Why is there so much eye contact? People shouldn’t exchange that much eye contact! Ever!”

“Jesus, Beca,” I push her arm back down to her side. “You need to relax for a second,” her eyes finally focus on me. “You and Chloe have been together for three years and been friends for twice that. You know she’s not going to leave you to run off playing soldier with G. I. Joe over there.”

Her sharp glare softens and she nods in acknowledgment. “You’re right, I’m way better than him. I mean, who cares about muscular army dudes when you can have this talent?” she gestures to herself proudly.

“I’m not going to answer that,” I reply as Chloe calls our attention, saving me from this conversation gone south. I step around the brunette so that I can see what Chloe wants.

“Girls! We have separate rooms. We don’t have to sleep on top of each other anymore.”

This shouldn’t be that much of a relief but after being crammed into a twin bed with Emily, Amy, and Stacie before, it’s a godsend.

“Not sexually, but there was that one time,” she adds, unnecessarily.

Chloe hands us each our own individual room key and we use the stairs to get to the second floor where our rooms are. Instead of opening the door to my assigned key number, I’m yanked into the next room by my tall and clumsy girlfriend.

“Thank goodness,” she breathes, pulling me towards the bed and pushing me onto the soft mattress. “I thought we’d never be alone.”

Her hands slide down to rest on my waist, leaning forward and connecting our lips in an expert fashion. It would have surprised me coming from the awkward girl had we not been in this position many times before.

“We probably won’t be for long, Em,” I point out, pausing our activity to gesture at the door where I can hear some of the others talking loudly.

Emily smiles, hopping onto the bed beside me and straddling my hips. “In that case,” she whispers, “we’d better make the most of it.”

Her hands move to unbutton my jeans, simultaneously kissing me softly as we fall blissfully into the moment.

“Mhmm,” I agree when we separate for air. “Sounds good to me.”

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later we’re both laying on our backs, breathing heavily.

“Wow,” I breathe, “that was…”

“Freaking fantastic,” Emily finished, turning her neck to grin at me. “We could totally do it again. In the words of Fat Amy, it really was a quickie.”

Face scrunching up in disgust, I roll over to face away from my girlfriend. “Really? You had to bring Amy and quickies into this?” I ask, stretching and sitting up. “Well, now you killed the mood and all I can think about is Fat Amy and that pilot butt naked in an airplane.”

“Grace!” a pillow hits me in the face, Emily’s whine following. “You had to ruin it for me too?”

“Yes,” I stick out my tongue childishly. “What’s mine is yours,”

“That’s not what that means!”

“Too bad, so sad!”

Another pillow collides with my head, but her side of the bed only has two, which means she’s all out of ammo. Her grin turns sheepish when she notices this and she slowly raises her hands in surrender.

Reaching behind me, I grab one of the fluffy pillows and pull it out, holding it in front of me innocently.

“Now, Grace, let’s not do anything rash,” Emily tries, inching away. “We can make a compromise.”

I raise my soft weapon higher, preparing to launch it directly—

“—Emily!” Aubrey’s voice calls through the door. “Bellas meeting in five!”

“Okay, Aubrey! We’ll—” she cuts herself off when I shake my head to signal that I’m not here. “—I mean I’ll be right there. Me. Cause who else would be in here?”

I roll my eyes at her _very_ convincing statement.

It doesn’t seem as though Aubrey notices because she doesn’t say anything else and continues on to the next room.

“You really don’t lie well, do you?” I tease, standing up and pulling on my pants that were discarded during out sexual activity.

“You’d think after three years you’d know that,” Emily shrugs. “I guess you won’t be winning girlfriend on the year anytime soon.”

“Whatever sweet-cheeks, let’s get to this Bella meeting before they send the blonde Nazi back after us.”

Emily stifles a laugh with her arm before giving me an admonishing look. “You know, you shouldn’t be calling her that. Chloe says she’s gotten much better than she was during her senior year.”

“Well, Beca says that Chloe’s a liar,” I retort, following the girl to the door.

I open the door to the hotel, both of us leaning out to look down the hallway just as every other Bella does. There’s a chorus of squeals—definitely not from me—and then everyone is running towards one room where this ‘meeting’ is supposed to take place.

As it turns out, the meeting is more about exchanging the items we got in our gift bags—I guess Emily and I were too busy to notice them—than actually strategizing. Somehow we all fit on the single mattress, squished in together like some jigsaw puzzle.

I’m practically on top of Emily and next to Beca, who’s trying to consume an entire box of chocolate.

“Okay, you guys,” Beca looks up from her empty box of candy. “We’ve never competed against bands that play actual instruments. What’s the plan?”

Emily, my literal ray of sunshine shares her idea, “I really think we should just stay true to ourselves and it will all figure itself out.”

Some of the girls seem receptive to that plan. I’m receptive because it’s Emily’s idea and involves the least amount of effort.

“I second that plan.”

“Emily,” Amy speaks through a mouthful of gummy bears. “Please hear this in the best way possible, you’re a very stupid person.”

It’s silent and I’m not sure whether Emily is about to cry or is just so used to Amy’s crap at this point that she just doesn’t care.

“Alright,” I lean over, snatching the bag of remaining gummy bears from the woman and popping one in my mouth. “These are mine now.”

“What? No!”

I pull the bag out of her reach. “Maybe when you’re nicer, I’ll buy you more.”

“Fine,” she sags back against the wall.

“You know what?” Chloe switches topics, “Maybe it won’t matter if we win or not because they will like us so much that they will invite us to keep touring with them; and, it won’t matter if I get into vet school because we’ll be together, as a family, supporting each other. And isn’t that what it’s all about?”

_Annnnnndddd we’ve definitely driven right into crazy town with Chloe as the mayor._

There’s a chorus of unsure agreements, probably to placate the redhead instead of in actual agreement with her. Emily and Aubrey are the only ones that are actually excited about it.

Then Fat Amy comes in with a wrecking ball to that speech.

“Yeah,” she drawls, “except for all families break apart and the only person you can ever truly rely on is yourself,” Amy holds up a hand for a high five from Aubrey who doesn’t reciprocate.

I’m certainly sensing a long and dramatic backstory that comes with her extremely negative words, but Amy is very good at making a quick exit.

“Alright, time to drop a smash.”

Looking to my right, I see Emily with her shirt stuck over her nose which clues me in on what the blonde means by ‘smash’. The Bellas as a whole let out at least fifty, ‘no’s’ and I jump off the bed, taking Emily with me.

“Where are we going?” she asks, voice muffled because her shirt is covering half of her face.

“We need to get at least five miles away because Amy is about to kill every living thing in a five mile radius,” I reply, yanking her down the steps of the hotel and sighing when we step through the door. “We don’t have much time!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bellas perform at the first show and things don't go as expected, of course.

Emily and I return to the hotel, just in time to get in the van that would be taking the Bellas back to the military base for our first performance on the tour. The riff-off seemed long forgotten, as the group’s focus was now on the excitement of singing together once more.

Although, Amy is acting a little bit weirder than usual and I’m not exactly sure that I really want to know why.

Once we arrive at the base, there’s a lot more people than before and the stage has been completely transformed. It’s lined with incredibly bright lights, some USO banners and a giant USO sign in lights.

There are a bunch of stations with vanity mirrors for members of the different groups to get ready and the Bellas have claimed the ones in the back corner.

We’re all dressed in what I would like to call, “The outfit in a sailor’s sex dream” and I’m not quite positive what we were going for in the first place.

Some stage manager informs everyone that the show is about to start with Young Sparrow and DJ Dragon Nutz being first up. The duo high fives and then follows the man to the stage, where I can hear the screams of excitement from the audience.

I’m content with sitting in my chair until we go on, but Emily has other ideas.

She leads me to the left wing of the stage where both Chloe and Aubrey are ‘watching the competition’.

Heavy beats pound through the speakers as the set starts, DJ Dragon Nutz on the turn tables, while Young Sparrow sings and simultaneously hypes up the crowd.

“They’re so…dope,” Chloe decides, the word sounding so awkward coming from her mouth as Aubrey bobs her head in agreement.

“Please don’t say that ever again,” I’m pleading to deaf ears because Chloe has hit that stage in her adult life where she says, ‘hip’ things to fit in with the ‘cool kids’.

“You guys,” Emily turns her focus on the two older girls. “This is the first time we’re performing together in _three years._ It’s gonna be so much fun.”

My heart nearly melts at the girl’s excitement before I have to turn away because Chloe’s attempting to do the robot.

“Dance with us, Grace!” the redhead exclaims, grinning and pulling on my arm.

Backing away slowly, I smile sheepishly. “I’ll pass. I have to go ask Beca a quick question about the set!”

Neither of the three find my excuse odd, shrugging before spinning around to watch the performance on stage. Wandering back to the rest of the group, I see Beca talking to one of the guys who was with DJ Khaled earlier.

“Who’s that?” I ask, sidling up next to Flo and Cynthia Rose.

“I’m really not sure,” Flo admits, touching up her makeup and watching the interaction with interest. “But, boy is he British and cuuuute.”

“I might be gay and married, but I’d still hit that,” CR comments while doing something with Flo’s hair.

Slapping the older woman on the shoulder, I exclaim, “CR! What would Denise say?”

“She’d probably want to join in,” CR shrugs, looking more interested in the idea now that her wife is involved. “She’s always talking about being more adventurous and shit.”

“Oh my god! I do not need that image in my head!”

Whatever this guy’s deal is, I don't like the way he’s looking at Beca and Chloe probably wouldn't either—the redhead’s been known to get a little jealous when guys pay attention to her girlfriend.

Their conversation ends with an awkward goodbye and a, “good luck” directed at Flo, CR and I.

“What was that?” CR asks.

“That was so much eye contact!” Beca exclaims in lieu of sharing what their conversation was about.

I can hear Saddle Up starting their set in the background as I tilt my head to the side. “Aren’t you supposed to maintain eye contact when you’re talking to someone?” I inquire, sarcastically.

“I don’t know!” she answers. “It felt like he was staring into my soul!”

“Who is he?” Flo wonders, putting away her make up and swiveling in her seat to look at Beca.

Beca does a once-over in the vanity next to her, smoothing some hair back into place. “Someone from DJ Khaled’s team. His name is Theo.”

“You better watch out DJ Bee,” CR warns, flipping a braid over her shoulder and leveling the other woman with a serious look. “Mr. Eye Contact was giving you some serious heart eyes.”

“What?” the short brunette coughs—or laughs, I’m not sure. “Ew, gross. Number one, I’m with Chloe, and two, he reminds me too much of a turtle to take seriously.”

On that note, I slip off my Bella sweatshirt, hang it on a chair and leave the backstage area in search of the candy table that I saw earlier. After helping myself to a handful of skittles and starbursts,—don’t tell Chloe, she’s on a health nut kick—a familiar striped pattern of one of our costumes catches my eye.

Fat Amy is standing with our two ‘body guards’ and I’m half scared of what I’m about to come across and half super interested in how they’re both still standing in the blonde’s presence. Since she basically had sex with them with her eyes earlier, I figured they would file some type of restraining order.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask, walking up to the three. “Amy, did you see that snack bar?”

“You betcha!” she slaps her stomach and then gestures to her boobs. “I even stored some for later.”

“Um, yeah, I didn’t need to know that.” It’s not the weirdest thing she’s ever done, but I still feel the need to remind her of the concept ‘too much information’ with my reply. Chicago and Zeke exchange extremely uncomfortable looks.

Thankfully the subject is changed when the announcer guy for the tour introduces Evermoist.

“Evermoist, who came up with that name?” Fat Amy wonders aloud, casually swinging her arm at her side. “Uh, my bum-crack’s a bit dry, does anyone have an _evermoist_ towelette?”

Sometimes when the Australian makes jokes, they really aren’t that funny and just make everyone uncomfortable

Not this time.

While the two soldiers seem slightly unsure of whether or not to laugh, I’m already bent over in a silent fit of laughter and trying to catch my breath. “Please, Amy, stop it.” Of course, my begging only encourages her to continue.

“My grandmas in a band right now,” she has a very nonchalant look on her face, “never moist.”

“ _Oh god_ ,” Chicago groans quietly.

My previous fit of laughter dissipates as quickly as water on the sun because while dirty, Amy’s second joke was actually pretty disgusting and if I had a grandma, I’d never be able to look at her the same way again.

Before the other woman can crack a third, and possibly worse joke, the bright stage lights turn on and the sound of electric guitar fills the room. Calamity is front and center, strumming away with Veracity and Serenity flanking her, and Charity on the drums.

I really hate to admit it, but Evermoist is really good.

Like, crazy good.

They have this whole punk rock sexy thing going on and it’s really—what the hell am I saying? Evermoist is the enemy in this competition and Serenity was a total bitch during the riff-off earlier. We have to _destroy them_.

Wouldn’t Chloe be proud?

Nudging Amy in the side, I gesture to the stage. “We should probably get going. I think we’re up next,” nodding to Chicago and Zeke, “see you later, I guess.”

The two of us make our way back to the stage, my face scrunching up when Amy pulls some melted chocolate out of her bra and eats it. We pass the other two groups and Lilly at the food table, but I let my blonde teammate grab the silent girl because she still terrifies me.

Everyone else is standing by the stage when we arrive, looking like someone ran over their puppy.

Coming to a halt beside my girlfriend, I lean forwards to look around her at the other girls, “Why do you guys look like Amy just showed her vagina to the president again?”

“Hey!” Amy defends herself, “Both Barack and Michelle loved it, I could tell.”

“I really doubt that.”

“Look at them!” Chloe interrupts, gesturing wildly at the performing band while Beca grabs her arm to try and calm her down. “They’re so good! DJ Khaled is loving them.”

It’s true. A couple of feet away, the famous man is nodding his head to the beat and looking very interested.

“Yeah, I guess their good,” I’m not really sure what answer won’t cause a panic, so I go with, “in a grungy punk rock sort-of way.” Next to me, Aubrey’s face is all puckered up like she’s trying not to blow chunks. “You alright, Aubrey?”

Aubrey nods quickly, not at all making me feel comfortable being within splashing distance.

Evermoist finishes with a bang, sending the Bellas a couple of smirks before crowding around DJ Khaled like a bunch of vultures, leaving Fat Amy hanging when she holds a hand up for a high five.

“And now,” the announcer hushes the excited clapping of the audience. “An a cappella group with a few youtube clicks. So, put your hands together for the Bellas!”

There’s not a lot of clapping—nowhere near as loud as Evermoist—and Emily squeezes my hand tightly. “Here we go,” she mutters, uncertainly.

“Don’t worry, Em,” I say as we follow the rest of the group onto the stage. “Our set is killer!”

Emily grins, her nerves once again changing to excitement and she moves to stand next to Amy, while I step onto the raised platform with Flo, Beca, and Lilly.

The only reason I’m not freaking out is because, like I told my girlfriend, our song choice is amazing and this isn’t the new Bellas. I’m not in charge of yelling at anyone in this group—Aubrey can do that enough for all of us—so there’s no rush of anxiety like there is when I perform with Emily’s and my Bellas.

It’s going great.

Cynthia Rose’s raspy voice is seriously perfection, everyone is hitting their moves in sync while not bumping into each other, and the crowd has morphed from uninterested zombies into something you’d see at a One Direction concert.

Amy’s solo is…interesting and Emily follows with an amazing one of her own.

What can I say? I love my girlfriend.

It’s near the end of the song where Beca stands out with her runs. I can tell she’s really letting herself go as she belts out the words and does this little dance that wasn’t released but still looks good.

We’re just about to take it home, when there’s a loud noise that cuts into our performance. My immediate thought is that it’s some kind of alarm and I should tackle Emily to protect her from whatever’s happening, but a moment later I register the sound of trumpets and see the audience starting to salute.

Realizing there’s no imminent danger because no one else besides our group is panicking, I look back to see Aubrey saluting as well, albeit rigidly.

“Salute, salute!” she’s whispering aggressively. “We have to salute! Stand at attention, this is Taps!”

I have no idea what ‘taps’ is, but I quickly bring my right hand up to my forehead, heart still nearly beating out of my chest. Some of the girls are using the wrong hand, while others—Amy—have their hands in the air looking like idiots.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the other bands gathered in the wing, purposely failing to hide their amusement. I can feel my face turning beet red and I’m not sure whether it’s from embarrassment, or anger.

Probably both.

Of course our two least favorite a cappella commentators—now ‘d-acca-mentarians’—are getting this all on tape so we can treasure it forever.

Let’s just say we got the hell out of there as quickly as possible, heads down and quiet, a very unusual combination for this bunch. The ride back to the hotel was very similar to the one after the riff-off earlier, only even quieter because nobody was at fault and this was much more embarrassing.

Once back in the safety of the hotel, most of the girls head into one room, but I follow Emily, who’s face has taken on a more, determined, look.

We go to our room, where the older girl proceeds to throw open her suitcase and starts digging through it, causing me to duck in order to dodge the cloth projectiles.

“Um, what are you doing?” I ask, carefully, not wanting to be on the receiving end of whatever this is.

“Aha!” Emily ignores me, pulling out something black with splotches of pastel. “There it is!”

She immediately starts to strip, throwing her top on the floor and flinging her pants on the bed, pulling on what I now know is a very sexy black dress with some flowers dotted across the bodice.

I bite my lip, holding back a smirk and trying to ignore the rush of arousal. “Not that I don’t love that dress on you, but why are you wearing it at ten o’clock at night!”

“Because we’re going across the street to show DJ Khaled that we are a legit group and we deserve to be here.” She answers this time and in a quick motion, something soft and dark hits me in the face.

“What is this?”

“Your dress,” it’s said like I’m silly for even asking. “I bought it especially for this trip because I knew you’d just pack sweats and t-shirts if I let you!”

“Not true, I packed jeans!” I object, pulling the dress off my face and studying it.

The dress is actually a navy gown with little beads sewn into the lace fabric. It’s honestly really nice and although I’m usually not a dress person, I don’t object. In five minutes, we’re both dressed, with make up and hair redone.

“Now for the hard part,” I mutter, knowing the rest of the girls are harder to wrangle than Amy in a candy store.

“Let’s go!”

Emily pulls me out the door, marching towards Beca’s room in an attempt to redeem the Bellas.

I just hope her plan works.


	6. Chapter 6

I'm still not quite sure how I got here.

There's people screaming everywhere, Jessica's stuck in a glass coffee table and Emily just smashed a really expensive guitar through a balcony window. Why? I don't know, but she might've just been able to open it if she hadn't panicked.

Did I mention the fire and thousands of bees swarming?

I should probably start at the beginning.

* * *

An hour earlier, after forcing me into the dress she'd smuggled and informing me of her plan to redeem the Bellas in DJ Khaled's eyes, Emily had somehow managed to convince all the other girls to go along with it as well.

Even Amy seemed impressed with the current Bella captain, which is a miracle in itself. There was talk of some sort of tart and I think my girlfriend was channeling her inner Aubrey, because she 'drill sergeant'ed' the girls and I to the hotel and casino across the street in a way eerily similar to the blonde woman.

We look super hot if I do say so myself.

Across the street actually meant around the block and I regret shoving my feet into the heels that had been thrusted into my arms. I'll definitely have blisters when these puppies come off.

The _Casino Casa Reyes_ is unlike anything I've ever seen. There are a bunch of expensive cars parked out front and very official bouncers standing at the doors. I hold my breath in anticipation, but the large man just waves us in.

We walk up the—painfully tall—staircase, where we enter the lobby, It's dimly lit and decorated with lavish red-patterned carpet and gold vases. People mill around, talking and laughing. This is probably the first time that the group as a whole is dressed correctly for an occasion.

"Okay, ladies," Aubrey comes to a halt and turns to face us, "let's divide and conquer. You ready?" everyone nods, either too scared to argue or just plain lazy. "Let's rock it! Lilly? Come with me."

Beca goes with Chloe, CR is with Flo, and Ashley pulls Jessica off in another direction.

In any of these situations, Emily is automatically my partner, so we follow along after Aubrey and Lilly, who probably have a better idea of what we're looking for. Amy's already wandered off, going up the stairs with some guy who she probably plans to get real acquainted with.

If you know what I mean.

Aubrey stops at the bar to ask about DJ Khaled's whereabouts, but the bartender quickly informs her that he doesn't know, but cannot give out confidential information about guests even if he did know.

The stress of this wild goose chase we're on causes me to reach for the nearest glass of champaign and take a large sip. Emily sticks her arm out for one too and freezes when she catches Aubrey's glare.

Although the steely look isn't for my girlfriend.

"Grace," her voice is painfully neutral. "Aren't you only 20?"

Nodding thoughtfully, I respond, "That would be correct."

"I'm 21!" Emily exclaims, unhelpfully.

"Then you shouldn't be drinking, Grace. It isn't legal."

"It is in Spain," I grin, tapping my glass to Em's and then downing the entire thing; watching, as the blonde woman grips the edge of the bar top tightly, no doubt wanting to strangle me right now.

Lilly is behind the bar, shaking a tumbler and probably making something that could destroy this entire casino, but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt for my own sanity.

"We'll shelve this for now," Aubrey sighs, yanking Lilly from her potentially dangerous mixture and out from the bar. "because we have something important to do, but don't think I won't be mentioning this to Chloe later."

Emily and I watch as she marches off towards her next victim, most likely to intimidate them into giving her info. Her and Stacie seriously need to get back together. She was much nicer then.

"When do you think she'll remember that Chloe isn't as opposed to she drinking as she thinks?" She asks, tilting her head to meet my gaze.

Shrugging, I shoot her a smirk. "It doesn't matter. As long as she doesn't figure out its Beca that'll flip shit, I'm not worried." The sound of cheers draws my attention towards one of the many tables set up in the room where people are gathered around playing cards. "Alright, I'm gonna go kick someone's ass in go fish."

A hand clasps down on my shoulder, stopping me from going any further.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, little G," my eyes follow the hand up to the face it belongs to, to see CR frowning at me. "The last thing we need is another Bella with a gambling problem. It starts out as a game of go fish and the next thing you know, you're twenty-thousand dollars in debt."

I'm not quite sure what to say to that. "…I'll just stick to monopoly, I guess. That way I'm only losing fake money."

"Good girl," Cynthia Rose removes her hand and smiles, "now let's round up the rest of the group and see if they found anything."

"You mean you and Flo didn't find anything?" my eyebrows pinch together in confusion.

CR and Flo both shrug, "We did find a lot of booze, which we definitely had to try because we're in another country and as they say: 'when in Spain,'" CR recites with a laugh.

"Yeah, no, I don't think that's how that goes," but, my words are lost on them, probably due to whatever they've already had to drink so far.

"In my country, my village was known as the prime marketplace for purchasing alcohol." Flo explains, going off on another one of her 'in my country' tangents, which are usually hilarious, but often poorly timed. "My mother used our toilet to distill it and my brother and I were forced to use a hole as our bathroom."

Ever the kind soul, Emily tries to be sympathetic to Flo's story, unlike the rest of us, who have learned to just keep the conversation going as if it she'd never spoken in the first place.

"Wow, um," she flounders, looking for something to say in order to sympathize with our friend, "that's awful Flo, but at least, uh…"

"—Hey, look!" I interrupt, spotting Aubrey and Lilly coming towards us. "It's Aubrey and Lilly. Maybe they found out where Khaled is."

It's a relief, because now Emily isn't standing next to me with her mouth gaping like a fish at a loss for words, and everyone is focused on the new arrivals.

As it turns out, neither of the two others had found anything out. We stand together in silence while waiting for anyone to come up with an idea that might help us locate the famous DJ. Jessica and Ashley have also joined the rest of us. Scanning the area, I spot Beca and Chloe standing on the far side of the room, seemingly doing nothing as well.

I point this out to the others who turn just in time to see Chloe borderline assault Beca by pushing her up against a pillar. There's a unanimous decision to approach the couple and Aubrey is the first to speak, eyes narrowing on Chloe's hands clutching at Beca's breasts.

"What are you guys doing?"

Next to me, Emily looks as if she just walked in on her parents doing it, which has actually happened to her before.

Twice.

I don't think enough therapy in the world can erase that image from her head.

I, on the other hand, am not surprised at the scene in front of me. I've grown accustomed to stumbling upon the two during _intimate_ acts.

Beca and Chloe turn around to face us, eyes wide. "Nothing," they chorus, voices higher pitched than normal.

"You guys were hiding behind a plant," I remind them, "with Chloe's hands on your boobs."

"Kinky," CR comments with a wink, before redirecting her gaze elsewhere. "Hey, ain't that Mr. Eye Contact?"

Low and behold, standing several yards away is the guy that Beca was talking to earlier. The British one who works for DJ Khaled, which my girlfriend points out. She also adds that the group should follow him.

The girls sneakily—not in any way, shape or form—follow after the man, and eavesdrop to find out what floor he's headed to. Once we figure it out, we wait five minutes before piling into the elevator to finally—hopefully—find DJ Khaled.

This night is turning into a low-budget Mission Impossible remake.

* * *

The elevator doors open into DJ Khaled's private suite, which looks more like the area of the entire Bellas house.

It's huge!

People are everywhere, talking and drinking, while music pumps through the speakers. The room is dimly lit, accenting the lightly colored walls and adding to the chill vibe.

"One of us seriously needs to get rich, so that we can stay somewhere this nice," I whisper to Jessica, who nods eagerly.

Mr. Eye Contact—Theo, I remind myself what Beca had called in the elevator—,who is sitting on a chair directly in front of us, spins around as if he has eyes in the back of his head. Beca greets him with fake surprise that I'm positive he sees straight through as he jumps over the back of his seat and they engage in an awkward conversation. He invites us to 'hang out' and gives us a tour.

I notice Chloe clenching her fists in front of me, no doubt extremely jealous.

We meet Sunburst—who might be a My Little Pony character with a name like that—the juiceologist, where we learn another interesting fact about Flo when he offers us some beet juice. Does Guatemala have a king? I thought they had a president.

Next, is an apiary which they use to harvest honey.

I immediately take a step back, pulling Emily with me in order to prevent any disasters the clumsy girl could potentially cause. I do not need to find out I'm allergic to bees tonight.

"Beca," Theo points at her, "I've got to show you something. You're gonna love this!"

"Sure," the brunette says in an unsure tone.

She takes a step forward, followed by Chloe when Theo claims that, 'he'll bring her right back,' signaling that he only means Beca. He leads her off into a separate room, leaving the rest of us to mingle—loiter.

Chloe, who is absolutely fuming, heads straight to the nearest server and grabs two glasses of champaign, downing the first immediately and clutching the other tightly.

"Yeah," I drawl, turning to my girlfriend and Aubrey, who are the only ones still standing around. "I don't want anything to do with that volcano that's going to erupt later on. She's all Beca's."

The three of us are chatting by the windows when a man in uniform walks up to us, his gaze focused on Aubrey.

"Are you Aubrey Posen?" he asks, his uniform decorated with many badges and medals.

Aubrey nods quickly, "Yes."

"I'm a friend of your father's," he introduces, offering his hand, "I'm General Davis. In fact," he pauses, "I've just come from our classified briefing."

I don't think I've ever seen the blonde as excited as she is at the mention of her dad being in Spain.

"Oh my gosh, so you were just with Aubrey's dad?" Emily asks, clearly thrilled for our friend.

"Wait, Aubrey's dad is real?" my words are teasing, but General Davis doesn't laugh. Emily and Aubrey smile awkwardly. "Tough crowd," I mutter to myself.

"He was so excited to see your show," the General continues, causing the other two to exchange grins, but my lips pull down in a frown at his use of past tense. "it's just too bad that he can't make it."

There it is.

Aubrey's face falls for a moment, before she masks her disappointment with a forced smile. "Oh," she speaks softly, "oh, that's okay."

"Yeah, it's really okay," Emily echoes, whether because she's upset herself or just to make Aubrey feel better, I'm not sure.

"That's totally okay, he's a busy man," the former Bella captain keeps going, "and as my dad always said: expect finite disappointment and remember, there's always more _where that came from—oh!_ "

She tries to lean casually on a candle stand and ends up tipping it over where it hits the window and catches the curtains on fire, sending flames up to the ceiling.

Complete chaos erupts.

As everyone's backing away in terror, Emily knocks into Jessica, who's sent flying backwards and lands on the glass coffee table, and Ashley is pushed over a chair by another guest. Emily covers her mouth in horror, probably going into shock.

I'm trying to help Jessica up when there's a loud crash behind us. Someone had knocked into the blender and the lip popped up, causing beet juice to spray in Flo's eyes. She must have stumbled into the apiary in her blind panic, knocking it over and releasing the bees.

Complete and utter chaos.

"Someone open a window!" Chloe screams, swatting away the bees like the rest of us.

CR and Emily can't open the door, so Emily backs up, picks up a guitar, and swings it like Thor's hammer through the door, smashing the glass and the instrument.

Did I mention the fire?


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the night went as well as you’d expect.

Once the fire was put out, swarms of bees dissipated and we managed to extricate Jessica from the glass coffee table, we had to explain the entire thing to a very confused Beca—who conveniently managed to miss the entire thing.

Soaked and some of us covered in bee stings, we waited as a group for the paramedics to get the glass out of Jessica’s ass and the cops to finish questioning everyone.

“So, what’s the plan now?” I wonder aloud, sitting on the edge of the marble steps outside of the hotel. “Impressing DJ Khaled failed horribly, no offense Em, so now what?”

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the billionaire’s shocked look and Calamity’s smirk as they stepped off the elevator.

Emily ducks her head down in shame—not that it’s her fault Aubrey nearly burned down the entire hotel, though she did accidentally push Jessica and nearly sent her careening towards he death.

“We really screwed up this time,” CR agrees, squeezing out water from her braids. “This is some freshman year level Bella shit.”

The group—minus Flo, Emily and I—give different sounds of agreement.

Moments later, Jessica returns from the ambulance glass free with Ashley, who went with her for emotional support.

“Okay, girls!” Chloe pops up from her spot on my right. “Let’s get some rest because we have to be up early tomorrow to leave.”

Her mood has significantly lightened after the previous hour of worrying. Once she made sure I wasn’t hurt, she made her way to each of the other Bellas. Its in her nature to take care of her group of friends.

She’d stayed by Aubrey’s side once we left the room.

Chloe herds the group across the street, arm in arm with her blonde best friend, leaving her girlfriend to walk with me and mine.

“Did I miss something between the fire and the bees?” Beca asks, indicating the tension between her and Chloe.

“I’m pretty sure ditching her at beginning of the party might’ve done it,” is my sure-fire guess. “But you might have made it worse by ditching her to hang out with the British guy—ouch!” My second theory is cut off by an elbow to the ribs.

Emily shoots me a look, “I think what Grace means to say, is that Chloe’s probably really stressed about winning, like with World’s, and she wants us to be a united front.”

She’s obviously trying to sugarcoat the situation because she still idolizes the music producer; however, I don’t have the same patience my beautiful girlfriend has.

Opening my mouth to deny her statement, I’m met with another blow to the ribs done conveniently when Beca glances over at her redheaded girlfriend.

“I’m not interested in Theo!” The short brunette’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “He was just showing me Khaled’s sweet setup for mixing.”

“Keep it in your pants Beca,” I snicker, holding the door to our hotel’s lobby open for the both of them. Then, in hushed whisper, “We don’t need anyone talking about toners again.”

“No,” she frowns at the memory of the Bellas teasing her about Chloe, “we don’t.”

“C’mon Beca!” Chloe bounces between the three of us, grabbing her girlfriend’s hand rather roughly and dragging her out of the lobby.

“Something tells me there’s going to be some very angry sex going on in their room,” my comment causes Emily to make a face and stick out her tongue. “Or, Beca’s about to be brutally murdered and dumped in the river.”

“Alright,” Emily sighs, reaching out to grasp my hand. “Let’s go to bed before this conversation gets any more uncomfortable.”

Shrugging my shoulders, “I tell it like it is, babe,” I remind her with a smirk.

She pushes my shoulder playfully, “Okay, Jiminy Cricket. Let’s go.”

I’d love to say we followed Chloe and Beca’s lead, but as soon as we made it back to our room, my girlfriend passed out in the middle of the bed, snoring softly. It’s not like I’d have it any other way.

Crawling into bed so that my back was pressed to her front, I felt her arm drape over me and pull me flush into her.

Her soft breath tickled my ear. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Em.” I’m compelled to add, “I’m sure the Bellas are gonna kick ass with our next set. DJ Khaled won’t know what hit him until we open for him on his tour.”

Emily giggles, “Goodnight, Grace.”

“Night.”

* * *

 

The morning comes with the depressing reminder of how badly we messed up last night.

Since we never showered and went straight to bed, our hair and clothes—well, just our hair, I guess—smelled like a campfire, which meant the entire room smelt the same.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, though.

It meant that we got to take a quick shower together and ended up doing a little more than getting clean. We couldn’t completely indulge ourselves in fear of one of the other girls bursting into the room and discovering us.

We’d never hear the end of it and we’re kinda on a schedule.  
  
The Bellas—no worse for wear than the fiasco performance where CR got set on fire—sit lined up on benches in front of the hotel with our luggage littered around us, waiting for the van to drive us to the airport.

The best thing about traveling on the USO tour, besides traveling Europe with my girlfriend, is the private jets to each location. No waiting in long TSA lines or planes being delayed for stupid reasons.

“Spain was nice,” I interrupt the tense silence from my spot, criss-crossed on the cobblestone. “I’ve always wanted to see a hotel, casino, and a military base. Now I can cross those off of my list.”

My attempt at lighting the mood falls short when Ashley shifts with a pained whimper, reminding me that she took a tumble last night, too. Jessica puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, while Chloe and Emily turn to give her sympathetic looks.

It’s a rare moment when anyone besides myself or Emily acknowledges two of them.

At the exact same moment, Saddle Up exits the building wearing equally annoying smiles.

“Well, hey!” The lead singer—who’s name I can’t remember and don’t want to—walks down the steps. “Heard you guys really lit it up last night,” The banjo player makes a sad plucking noise on his instrument.

They walk past the group with a laugh.

“That’s a great joke, it’s really funny,” Beca mutters in a monotone.

I feel Emily shift uncomfortably behind me where my back rests against her legs.

“Like a phoenix rising from the ashes,” of course Evermoist follows next, Calamity leading them. “Only, a really sad version, where there’s no phoenix and only…ash.”

Amy, in what might finally be her psychotic breakdown, proceeds laugh as if the woman had just told the funniest joke she’s ever held. The Bellas—and Evermoist—watch in a mixture of concern, confusion and shock as the blonde Australian literally chokes on her laughter, causing her to cough wildly. I seriously think she’s hacking up a lung as she leans behind Beca and spits.

I have to look away because I can feel my breakfast creeping back up.

“Sorry, I forgot where we were in the conversation.”

“Next time, when you’re trying to impress DJ Khaled, try to have some dignity.” Serenity suggests.

I don’t think the Bellas understand the meaning of the word and obviously Fat Amy feels the same because she informs the other group that, “We never do anything with dignity, so…”

“Hey,” Beca cuts in before Amy can continue, “where’d you go last night?”

“What, you mean when you were burning down the hotel?”

Honestly, I have to give it to her. That was a seriously good burn.

The music producer doesn’t feel the same way. “Dude, where _were_ you?”

“I don’t think we really need to hear about Amy’s sexual conquest,” my words are ignored when Amy informs the group that she was with her father. “Wait…you had sex with your _father_?!”

Emily nudges me from behind, effectively knocking some sense into me.

“He’s been trying to track me down for years and last night he found me!” She looks less-than-pleased about the news.

Aubrey asks the question we’re all thinking, “Why are you running from him? I wish my dad would pay attention to me!”

Maybe the Bellas should have a daddy issues support group. Aubrey, Beca, Amy and I could meet every second Friday of the month to discuss our fathers, or their-lack-of.

“Because my dad wasn’t a very nice man,” Amy swallows, “so when I was eighteen I had to run away. Which was a real bitch because of the chaffing,” I doubt she’s ever run farther than in Bella cardio sessions—barely, “and now, he’s found me and I don’t know what to think,”

“I mean, I-I think that’s amazing, and so should you,” Emily states, supportingly. “I mean, it’s a crazy thing that he’s finally found you after all these things. Now you can rekindle the relationship and it will be stronger than before. And maybe he was not a nice guy before, but maybe he is now and maybe he’s amazing—,”

I’m not sure what’s more surprising, Emily trying to recreate a hallmark movie plot, or how Aubrey is being really happy for Amy and not raging with jealously.

What isn’t surprising, is how Fat Amy reacts to the advice.

“EMILY, YOU ARE SO SHRILL AND INARTICULATE!”

She lunges towards the girl in question, causing the rest of us to react simultaneously. Beca and Aubrey try to hold Amy back, while I get to my feet quickly and leap onto the blonde’s back, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. The others stand near Emily.

“Amy we've talked about this!” I can barely hear Chloe shouting something as I scream at the Australian.

“Stacie’s calling on FaceTime!” Chloe says a little louder, which results in the commotion dying down in order for the group to gather around the woman with the phone.

We’re all standing on the stairs so we can be in view, myself standing on the step above Chloe and looking over her red hair.

Stacie’s face appears on the iPhone, looking tired but happy.

Everyone speaks at once:

“Where are you?”

“Stace, it’s going terrible here!”

“Yeah, we gettin’ our asses handed to us!”

“Guys,” Stacie’s soft voice cuts through the noise, “I had the baby.”

The…baby?

Holy shit, she had the baby!

The camera pans to an extremely small alien-looking baby, laying on Stacie’s stomach with it’s eyes wide open.

“He’s so cute,” Fat Amy comments.

Stacie corrects her, “ _She’s_ a girl.”

“Oh, okay, then average.”

I roll my eyes at her response. Only Amy could judge a newborn on looks.

Beca then asks her name, which causes all the Bellas to remind the new mother how much she loves them and that she should name her baby after them. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aubrey with a pained smile, making me remember my plan to get the two back together at some point.

It might be difficult with the new baby in the mix, but still very possible.

“Guys, I named her Bella,” she enunciates the name, drawing it out for emphasis.

It’s both cheesy and perfect at the same time, and I can’t help my heart melting at the fact. The other’s seem to feel the same way, if the chorus of ‘aws’ is any indicator.

“I think I would make a wonderful godparent,” I imply, causing the brunette on the screen to smirk. “Just saying.”

“I’ll consider it, Grace,” she laughs, “I love you guys.”

“We love you, too.”

“We love you so much! ”

“We miss you!”

As Chloe ends the call, Emily steps down and turns to the rest of us. “Guys, can we stop trying to win this tour and just sing together? I mean that’s why we’re all here right?” She asks.

She’s met with silence.

“Yeah!” Aubrey smiles like a shark, “But also, let’s still try and win this thing because I don’t know how else to live.”

Wow.

Aubrey seriously needs to get laid.

Preferably by Stacie.

“Ciao, Bellas!” I’ve never been more thankful to see Chicago. “Who wants to go to Italy?”

So, with a renewed sense of vigor, the Bellas board the van to the base, excited and ready for the next leg of the tour.


	8. Chapter 8

Things got surprisingly better as the tour progressed. Our bout of bad luck seemed to dissipate the farther we traveled, and in all honesty, the troops seemed to favor the Bellas more than any other group.

DJ Khaled was no exception.

Evermoist were the most disgruntled about the change in hierarchy. The band was constantly waiting around corners to harass the famous man, but he just wasn’t interested.

We even got to wear these super cool camo print costumes that Lilly made in some basement, somewhere, which didn’t surprise me because the woman has a laundry list of hidden talents. The outfits were super sexy, but I’ll have to admit I loved seeing Emily’s on the floor more than I did on her person.

Currently, the tour was stopped in Italy, where we had an extra day to explore the country and get a quick break before things picked back up again. Most of the girls immediately scattered to do ‘tourist’ things, while Emily and I decided to just see where the day took us.

First, we spent some time schooling the members of Saddle Up in a pick up game of pool at a tavern around the corner, hustling the plaid right off them.

“Fifty bucks that we smoke you,” I wager to Bobby, the fiddle player, before shooting a very meaningful glance to an excited Emily, who immediately tones it down a notch.

“You’re on, girly. Let me show you how a man plays pool,” he pulls a stick off of the wall and tosses another to one of the other guys. “Joe will be my partner.”

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I pick up the other two sticks and the rack. “Emily, do you want to do the thing with the triangle thingy?” I ask, causing our opponents to snicker at my, ‘lack of knowledge.’

“Okie dokie!” Em grabs the rack and makes a show of clumsily trying to fit all fifteen balls within the wooden triangle.

“You want stripes or solids?” Joe questions, pointing to the two different types like we’re a bunch of idiots.

“Stripes!” Emily giggles, “They’re prettier.”

“Let’s do this,” cracking his knuckles in an extremely over dramatic manner, Bobby then gestures to the two of us. “Ladies first,”

After exchanging another look with Emily, I step forward with the raised pool stick and eye the table before lining up a shot. The white cue ball collides with a colored one and sends it rolling slower than a turtle into a corner pocket. My girlfriend and I let out excited screams as we jump around.

“Yayyyyyyyy!”

Saddle Up has a hard time containing their laughter and it barely passes as a group coughing fit.

“Um,” Joe says awkwardly, “you guys are supposed to be stripes.”

“Oh shit, you’re right. My bad,” with a dramatic slap to the head, I seal the deal that we’re a pair of inexperienced pool newbies.

The game continues until the guys crush us by a mile—or they think they do, at least—and celebrate their victory with a very masculine chest bump. The other two members of the country group high five them and turn to face us with matching smirks.

I pull out a fifty from my wallet, holding it delicately out in front of me, only pulling it back when Bobby reaches out for it, his fingers snagging dead air.

“How about we make this a little more interesting?” eyeing the way that both men swap dumbfounded glances, my naive smile widens, “Double or nothing?”

Their cockiness is so strong, I can practically taste it.

_Hook, line and sinker._

“Joe, rack em’ up.” Bobby directs his partner, his pool stick hanging loosely in his hands.

Balls all in place, I wave Emily ahead and lean against one of the support beams as the real show begins. The taller brunette crouches in one of the corners, lining up her shot with expert precision before hitting the white ball and watching as one of the striped balls falls right into a middle pocket.

“Nice, Em,” I comment, while she does an excited jump.

Turning my head to the left, my grin turns into a smirk as our opponents suddenly look a little unsure.

Stepping up to take the next shot, I sink another ball into a corner and shrug, “would you look at that.”

“Bro,” I can just make out Joe’s whisper, “I think we just got hustled.”

Our turn never really ends. Emily and I both keep switching off, sinking shot after shot, until all the striped balls are gone and all that remains are the solids and one ball with an eight on it. Emily finishes it with a calculated shot and a bow, wrapping her arms around me like she had no idea that we were gonna crush it.

“Time to pay up boys,” my open hand waits patiently, while the two men dejectedly each pull a fifty out of their pockets, letting go after a couple of seconds of struggle.

“You guys totally cheated,” Bobby glares, missing the amused looks his buddies wear behind him. “I demand a rematch!”

“What? Us? _Cheat?_ ” I gasp, covering my mouth and turning to Emily. “We would never do that, right Em?”

Emily nods with a wide-eyed look, “Of course not, we’re _ladies,_ ” she uses their own words against them, which doesn’t really fit the elated grin spread out across her face.

“Whatever,” Bobby sighs, turning to his bandmates and gesturing to the bar. “Let’s get some drinks, guys.”

“I guess we’ll see you boys later, because I’ve got to take my woman out to lunch with our winnings,” extending an elbow to Emily, I wave the other arm towards the door. “M’lady?”

Weaving her arm through mine, my eager partner pulls me towards the door, talking a mile a minute about how _badass_ we just were and how she really wants to order spaghetti because we’re in Italy and, “It's my favorite part in Lady and the Tramp!”

We find a cute little bistro and share an order of spaghetti—of course—before window shopping along the side streets and trying gelato from a corner store right next to the hotel that the bands are staying in.

Arriving back at the hotel, we’re bombarded by the Bellas, who are all chattering over one another about going out to a karaoke bar that’s having a drink special tonight. Trying to get out of a night of drunken singing with the girls is like attempting to get a child to love cauliflower.

Basically impossible.

Everyone was dressed in similar attire to our unmentionable rendezvous in Spain several nights before, with a much better outcome in mind opposed to nearly burning down the building.

The girls were chatting excitedly about song choices, which ranged anywhere from Beyonce—CR—to Beethoven’s 5th Symphony—Amy.

“This one goes out to all those boys that chased me back in college…especially Bumper, who chased me all the way to NYC and had to be forcefully removed from one of my shows by security, A.K.A me.” Amy mumbles the second part of her statement into the microphone, before signaling the DJ to play her song.

It’s a cringe worthy moment, and one that causes most of the group to sink lower into their seats in order to hide themselves from embarrassment.

“I will not sing the Troy and Gabriella duet with you again, Em,” the puppy-dog eyes the older girl gives me is in no way persuasive enough to change my mind. “Please, pick something other than High School Musical.”

“But we always sing that one!”

Giving her my best unimpressed look, “Which is exactly why you need to choose literally anything else, I’m begging you,” I clasp my hands together and dramatically shake them in front of me.

“Fine,” Emily sighs, deflating for a brief moment before perking right back up, “I know the perfect one!”

As she struts off towards the DJ table, I down the last of the long island iced tea that’s almost completely empty at this point, before sliding out of my chair and following after her, halfheartedly ignoring the pats on my ass from the girls as I pass them.

Standing up on stage next to Emily with a microphone in hand, it really shouldn't come to much of a surprise when the first few measures of Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes’hit song from the movie _Dirty Dancing_ ‘The Time of My Life’ sprinkles through the speakers.

“Out of the plethora of stereotypical duet songs you probably had to choose from, you had to pick this one?”

Emily pulls another one of her classic doe-eyed faces, “It’s a classic! Plus, it’s also one of my all-time favorite movies!”

“Fine,” it’s near impossible to deny the girl anything, least of all a simple song choice, “but I’m not doing that lift with you since I’m obviously taking Patrick Swayze’s part. You’re a giraffe and will most likely break several of my body part and yours, too.”

“There’s only one body part that I need to work,” she raises her eyebrows, suggestively.

“Ew, gross.”

It goes just as well as you could imagine, mostly because of the amount of times that we’ve watched the movie together. We know enough about it that we could probably teach a college class on it.

Once the obligatory duet is done, I get to sit back and drink for the rest of the night, while the girls continue to hog the stage, switching up their partners or just swaying to the music in a drunken stupor. It’s probably not the best idea before our show tomorrow night, but we’re on such a high from the past couple of days that we can’t be bothered.

“Hey, Aubrey, are you alright?”

My question isn’t unfounded.

The blonde has been mindlessly swirling the straw in her rum and coke for the past twenty minutes, only having gone up to sing some 70s pop song that I’ve never heard before. Her chin rests on her hand as she stares at the dark liquid in her cup so intensely that it’s a wonder the glass doesn’t shatter.

Thankfully, the rest of the group is either up on stage or immersed in a game of quarters several tables away.

“I’m fine,” Aubrey’s smile is so forced it looks like it hurts. “Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“Because, when I asked you started clutching the end of the table so hard that I’m shocked you didn’t rip it off,” nodding towards her white-knuckled grip with a raised eyebrow.

Quickly, she lets go of the table in favor of wringing her hands together. “I’m the best I’ve ever been. I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Really?” I inquire, leaning back in my seat and leveling her with a knowing look, “You’ve been acting weird since Stacie called back when we were in Spain.”

“Stacie? What would she have to do with anything?” Aubrey lets out a tense laugh, as if I’m an idiot for even thinking that it had anything to do with the new mother. 

“I don’t know,” lifting a finger to my rub my chin, voice brimming with sarcasm, “maybe it has something to do with the fact that no one knows why you broke up and you’re always staring at her with a kicked puppy face when she isn’t looking.”

For a moment, Aubrey stutters while trying to come up with an answer suitable to my blunt accusation, her mouth opening and closing several times before she lets out something mixed between a groan and a whine.

Her fist slams on the table, “Stacie and I had different plans, and that’s all I’m gonna say about it,” she says firmly, not giving me time to reply before she abruptly pushes her chair back and marches towards the bar, presumably to order another drink that she’s gonna waste.

I sit alone for a moment, trying to decide my next course of action, because if Bella's share anything, it’s our inability to let things go and I am not an exception. Pulling out my phone and finding a quieter part of the bar, I select a contact and wait for the other person to pick up.

Once the video call is connected, the first thing I see is Stacie sitting in a chair in front of a pink wall with butterflies covering it. It must be baby Bella’s nursery, which means that the woman was home from the hospital already.

“Hey, Gracie!” her greeting comes out in a hushed whisper, “I just put Bella down, so I have to be quiet. What’s up, girl?”

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, Stace, I’m very buzzed and not in the mood to beat around the bush,” I admit with a shrug.

“Go on,”

“What the hell happened between you and Aubrey?”

Stacie chokes a little in surprise, then composes herself, “Nothing happened. We just grew apart.”

“If you grew so far apart, then how come Aubrey’s been more of a stick in the mud than usual?” soldiering on, I add, “It got worse after you told everyone you were pregnant and peaked when you FaceTime. I will fly home just to get answers if necessary.”

With a sigh, Stacie runs her hand over her face and slouches a bit in her chair. “We weren’t on the same page. Aubrey wanted to settle down and I wasn’t ready.”

“No offense,” I pause, “but you did the definition of ‘settle down’ by getting pregnant and having a kid.”

“I know, I know,” she agrees, pressing the back of her arm to her forehead. “I’m an idiot.”

“Exactly, so what are you two idiots going to do about it?”

Leaning back in the rocking chair, she grimaces, “I have no idea,” the rest of her statement is cut off by a loud cry, signaling that Bella is awake. “I’m sorry Grace, but I have to go! We’ll talk later!”

The call ends before I can say anything else, leaving me with no choice but to do what I was born to do.

Cracking my knuckles with a sly smile, “Let the meddling begin.”


End file.
